


growth

by arkhamcity



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Character Development, Character Study, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Recovery, god i love oracle, graphic references to The Killing Joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 11:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14212422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkhamcity/pseuds/arkhamcity
Summary: A short study of Barbara Gordon’s transition from Batgirl to Oracle. (drabble)





	growth

**Author's Note:**

> barbara gordon means so much to me as a character, i love her so much <333 this is actually a minific i've been meaning to post for a while, but i've held it off due to confidence issues. hopefully it's alright! enjoy.

_Extraordinary_.

Brave, brave Batgirl. There was an elegance in the way she moved, like a ballerina in her element of the spotlight, cracking down crooks with an effortless flair. Her red hair was reminiscent of flames as it danced around with her, and her cape and cowl were the colour of a cloudless midnight. A black-and-yellow shooting star; one that everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of. No other hero could ever compare.

 

-

 

_Driven_.

Even heroes needed their breaks, and Barbara Gordon decided that a long one was what was best for her. Really, it was a matter of time before she hung it all up for a while —— from suit to equipment to everything in-between. Wearing the cowl made her feel alive; but, despite her love for being Batgirl, it wasn’t what she needed, and she knew that. Her life was too messy, too tangled in a spiderweb of studies and work for her to focus properly on anything else. Besides, Batman and the Boy Wonder could handle themselves. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long until she returned.

 

-

 

_Dying_.

Pain. The only feeling throughout her body was pain as she writhed helplessly on the floor, unable to speak, unable to move. Her face was agonized, tears escaping like a waterfall, the suffering being too much to bear. There was nothing, nothing, nothing except the sadistic grins of those before her as they harassed her, deflowered her, assaulted her; and all she could hear was the snapping of a camera, repetitive and grueling. The Joker’s maniacal laugh rang like a Sunday church bell in her head as she succumbed to the pain, her consciousness coming to a close.

 

-

 

_Broken_.

The dull atmosphere of the hospital room perfectly reflected how empty she felt. Here lay Barbara Gordon, bandaged up, paralyzed and traumatized after life had taken her into the worst direction possible. Green eyes, once bright and full of hope, had lost their spark; and she stared listlessly at the ceiling above her, waiting for a sign that this was all a lucid nightmare, that she’d be alright when she woke up. But this was cold, cold reality, and there was not a single thing she could do to change that.

 

-

 

_Recovering_.

It had been a year. A year since her life was taken from her. A year since the Joker shot a bullet through her spine and did things to her that were unspeakable. Somehow, she’d made it out alive. No longer would she be able to don the costume and cowl. But she wasn’t at all helpless, nor was she ever going to give up the good fight. There were still things to do, lives at stake, wars to be won. Barbara Gordon was brilliant, analytical, intelligent — and she always, always found another way.

 

-

 

_Dreaming_.

People usually don’t remember their dreams once they wake, but Barbara’s eidetic memory enabled her to do just that. Her mind was like an infinite photo album, full of the good, the bad and the ugly. These memories usually manifested themselves in her slumber, coming back to her as vivid dreams. . . or nightmares. And for the first time in months. breaking a chain of night terrors, she had a dream. A different dream. Nothing like she’d ever seen before. Everything was in monochrome green, with nothing but pitch-black surroundings. The only other person was mysterious woman with a mask, preaching her prophecy to a curious Barbara. She had revealed herself as the Oracle of Delphi, a figure in Greek mythos who foretold all. Her cover came off to reveal her own visage, a little bit older and a little bit wiser. It was then that Barbara realized what her path she was going to take. The Oracle was all-seeing and all-knowing.

And that was _exactly_ who she was going to be.


End file.
